Hogwarts: Reversal
by VacantSkies
Summary: What if Harry was James's father, and not the other way around? What if the roles for a few other of our favorite characters had been switched as well...? What then? Very AU.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Pearly moonbeams trickled in through the tall windows in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, bathing the vacant room in a misty silver hue. A cloaked figure darted along past the four long house tables, trying hard not to make a sound. He moved quickly without running, his slipper-clad feet whispering softly as they brushed against the stone floor beneath them.

It was such a thrill to sneak around Hogwarts at night, to navigate its winding corridors and twisting passages, all the while relying on nothing more than wits and memory to avoid trick steps, angry caretakers, or wandering professors.

However, tonight he was feeling anything but excited. A scowl crossed his face as he recalled the earlier events of his evening.

Less than a half hour ago he'd been heading to the astronomy tower, but on the way he'd nearly been killed by some foul three-headed beast on the third floor. It had taken him ten hair-raising, agonizing minutes to escape the monster; in that time the two of them had been so loud that he was sure a professor had heard them. He was on his way back to his dormitory now, keeping his senses alert for anyone who might see him.

His heart was thudding relentlessly against his ribcage. It seemed he was becoming more and more anxious as he drew closer to the safety of his common room. Surely a professor would leap out of the shadows and give him an earful for being out so late.

Suddenly he skidded to a halt, his posture rigid as he listened carefully. Had he just heard -

_Footsteps?_ _Ghosts don't make footsteps. _People_ make footsteps._

Yes, there they were again – and they were coming closer! The sound of heavy, echoing boots was quite clear now. By listening for another heartbeat, he could tell that he was going to have some company in only a few moments.

His palms beginning to clam up, he whirled around, desperately seeking a statue or an alcove he could duck in to hide himself, but the hallway he was standing in was thin and featureless.

With a shaking hand, he brushed his long black hair out of his face and prayed that whoever was approaching wouldn't spot him.

The footsteps stopped. He held his breath, pressing his back as close to the cool wall as he possibly could, hoping, hoping, _hoping_ he would not be seen -

"Mr. Snape." A wand was lit and held inches away from his nose, obscuring his view of the other person's face, but from the voice alone he knew exactly who had stopped him. "What a surprise to see you here. Sneaking around the castle past curfew is an offense punishable with a detention."

"Professor Potter," he replied, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Of all the professors he could have run into! He had _just the luck_ to run into the most arrogant, insufferable one of the bunch. He did his best to put on an innocent expression. "I-I was just on my way back to the dungeons -"

"Really?" The tone in Potter's voice made it clear to Severus that he wasn't being taken seriously. "And where were you coming from?"

"I was...uh..." Oh, how he _loathed_ Potter, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and head of Gryffindor house. "I was...coming from the bathroom." Severus wanted to slap himself for coming up with such a lame excuse.

"The bathroom? Is there something wrong with the toilets in the Slytherin dungeon, Mr. Snape?"

"The view's better from up here," he replied stiffly.

"I'm sure it is." Severus could hear the smirk in Potter's voice as he said, "I've heard that the view from the Owlery is fantastic, though. I think you deserve to spend a few hours there tomorrow evening, tidying it up. What do you think?"

"I...think that's a _wonderful_ idea, professor," he spat back, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

Professor Potter lowered his wand and Severus could finally see the other man clearly. The light from the wand reflected strangely in Potter's round glasses and it cast long shadows across his face, nearly hiding his famous scar completely. "You'll be sweeping the Owlery _without__magic_." He held the Slytherin's gaze for another moment. "You are dismissed."

Severus immediately swept past him without another word, furious with the Gryffindor professor.

* * *

An hour after Severus had his confrontation with Professor Potter, a shorter, thinner, more feminine figure hurried stealthily up a flight of stairs. Without warning, the steps detached at the top from the landing and the whole staircase began to swivel around. The sudden change in momentum shook her off her feet, and in her haste, she stumbled, banging her knee hard on the solid stone step. 

"Darn it," she muttered to herself, rubbing her throbbing kneecap. Moving with a limp now, she shuffled up the rest of the steps until she got to the landing. Fortunately, she didn't have far to go after that before she found herself standing in front of the portrait hole.

"Niffler -" she began, saying the password that would let her into the Gryffindor common room. She blinked. The Fat Lady was gone. "No," she gasped. Her bum leg trembled and she sat down, staring helplessly at the blank canvas."The perfect ending to a horrible night," she grumbled. "_Why_ has everything gone wrong?"

With a miserable sigh, she leaned back against the wall, wondering when the Fat Lady would return. It was a well-known fact among the Gryffindors that the Fat Lady had a drinking problem – on a few occasions she'd been discovered passed out in the old warlock's wine cellar a few floors down. She rested her chin in her hands and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

_Even if she does return, she might be too smashed to remember the password..._

She wasn't going to be able to get inside. If a professor discovered her there this morning curled up beneath the portrait, she would most likely get in trouble, not to mention her back wouldn't forgive her for a week.

This wouldn't have happened to her if she hadn't been so gullible! _He_ had told her to meet him at the astronomy tower tonight...and she'd waited for him to come, but she'd sat up there all by herself for nearly an hour. She felt like such a fool for actually believing Severus would keep to his word.

Just then, the portrait swung open with a soft creak and a familiar, though unwelcome head poked out of the entryway.

"Oi! I was wondering where you'd gone!"

She glared at the upside-down face of James Potter above her. "Did you stay up again to _wait_ for me?"

"Er, well -" A sheepish look crept onto his face and he nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I was worried, Lil."

"_Don't_ call me that," she snapped. "And _don't_ stay up waiting for me, either!"

"What can I say? I'm hopelessly in love," came the smug reply. James grinned down at her. She could have slapped him. "Need a hand up?"

"I'm perfectly capable of standing up by myself," she retorted as she clumsily made her way to her feet.

"What happened to your leg? Are you all right?"

For an instant, Lily almost felt like smiling at James, because he was wearing such a sincere expression of concern. But that moment disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, and she responded quickly with, "I tripped on the steps. I'm _fine_."

"Here, let me help you -"

Before she could protest, his hand closed around hers and he helped to pull her through into the common room. As the portrait closed behind them, he still hadn't let go. He gave her hand a slight squeeze before he released his grasp.

"Thank you," she said in a very small voice, taking a step back from him. She didn't like being very close to him.

"You're welcome. Now, are you going to tell me where you were tonight?"

"Why are you always worrying about me?" she said exasperatedly. "You're such a nag!"

"You were seeing him again, weren't you?"

"I'm too tired for this," she muttered. Lily pushed him out of her way and climbed the stairs to the safety of the girls' dormitories.

"Don't ignore me!"

"I'm going to bed!" she called over her shoulder.

"Lily," he said quietly, and she turned around. "Just come and talk to me."

She hesitated ever so slightly, her feet frozen on the scarlet and gold carpeted steps.

"Please?" There was a gentle, yet insistent tone in his voice. "Let's sit down and talk. Give me five minutes."

"I'm going to bed, James."

Without waiting for a reply, she continued up the rest of the stairs. The soft echo of a closing door traveled down to him, and James was left standing in the empty common room, the faint crackling of the fire the only thing left keeping him company.

* * *

Severus was in a bad mood all of the next day, knowing what waited for him that evening. He snapped at everyone who tried to talk to him and he skipped dinner in the Great Hall, instead choosing to go to the Owlery and finish his detention early. 

Hooting owls and the stale scent of the dry, dusty Owlery greeted him as he stepped into the tower. Floating in midair before him was a sealed envelope bearing his name. Severus snatched it out of the air and tore it open, reading:

_Mr. Snape,_

_Kindly sweep and mop the floors until 10 PM. Also, don't forget to make sure that all of the owls have food and water. I know Hedwig gets cranky when she isn't fed, and when she's cranky she likes to bite witless students._

_Professor H. Potter_

_PS – Don't worry about house-elves interfering with your work. I've already made sure none of them will show up to bother you._

Severus groaned out loud as the letter disintegrated and a broom, a mop, and a pail of water appeared in its place. He glanced up at the old clock on the wall. Six o'clock – four more hours of back-breaking labor fit for a Muggle! Severus angrily kicked the pail over, but the water simply fell back into the bucket as it magically righted itself. The broom flew into his hands, like it couldn't wait to get started sweeping up dust and dry bird droppings. Shoulders sagging, Severus began to set about tidying up the Owlery.

"Having fun?"

He glanced over his shoulder. It was James Potter, and he looked like he was ready to cause some trouble.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"I'm just here to send a letter," he replied, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Well then get on with it. I'm not in your way."

Severus watched cautiously as James strutted toward him and then paused.

"Actually, I _do_ think you're in my way, Snivelly. My dad said you were skulking about the castle last night. Mind telling me where you were off to?"

Severus dropped the broom and reached for his wand. "Why do you care, Potter?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James draw his wand and spin it casually in his hand. The other boy shot a cocky grin back at him. "I think you were up to something, and as prefect, it's my responsibility to make sure this school stays safe."

"You're only a bloody prefect because you've got a famous father," he spat back.

"Jealous?" He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at Severus, who glowered at him. "You didn't answer my question."

"Where I was last night is not your concern."

"Oh, I do believe it is. You weren't trying to sneak any of your Death Eater friends into the school, were you?"

"I am not a Death Eater," he responded stiffly, feeling his fist clench around his wand. "I was doing nothing of the sort!"

"Then surely you won't mind telling me where you were. If you weren't planning on hurting people, then there's no harm in letting me know what you were doing."

He glared at James. "Sod off, Potter."

"Being uncooperative now, are we?"

Severus shouted out the counter-jinx just as James belted out, "_Levicorpus!_"

The two spells blasted into each other and both boys were knocked back. James was on his feet first, but he was on the floor a moment later when Severus hit him with a tripping jinx. A missed hex flew by Severus' head and hit an owl, turning it into a frightened little mouse.

The commotion had so far riled up the other owls, and upon spotting the mouse, some of them began to swoop down past the two boys and dive at it. Scared out of its mind, the mouse scampered away under James and Severus, and soon they were too busy batting at the upset owls to throw any spells at each other.

"Potter! You idiot!"

"Don't start with me, Snivelly! _Tarantallegra!"_

"_Protego,_" stated a calm, female voice.

The spell bounced off of an ethereal white shield into the wall where it fizzled harmlessly. The boys turned at once to face the newcomer, both of them quick to drop their wands and point fingers.

"I was attacked -"

"Snape tried to -"

The Transfiguration professor looked icily at both of them, her steely eyes shooting laser beams through the backs of their heads. It was more than enough to silence them. Severus noticed that she was holding a quivering mouse in her hand. With a quick tap of her wand, the mouse morphed back into a tawny barn owl and flew gratefully back up to its perch; another wave of her wand sent a blinding flash of light high up to the top of the Owlery, and the owls in the air followed it up and outside.

Severus thought he could almost hear Potter's heart beating in his chest, since the room was now so eerily quiet.

James was the first to speak. "Professor Granger, please -"

"Not another word, James."

"But Snape -"

She sighed. "_Severus_ Snape. Honestly, why can't you two call each other by your first names?"

The two boys each shot venomous glances at each other.

"_Severus_ provoked me into attacking him, Professor."

"Is that so? You should be ashamed of yourself, James. You're a prefect – you shouldn't be attacking anyone at all, provoked or not!"

Severus couldn't help but smile at hearing this.

"And Severus," Professor Granger said sadly, shaking her head. "Both of you are so brilliant...but why on earth can't _either _of you behave yourselves?" She sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Caught fighting again...I'll have to send you to see the Headm-"

"No! You can't!" cried James. "Dad'll have a conniption if I get sent up there again!"

"I'm sorry, James," she stated flatly, "but the two of you are becoming a real pain in the arse."

"But I'll lose my prefect's badge!"

"That's something you should have thought about before you tried to attack another student!"

James raised his arms in the air. "I thought you and dad were supposed to be friends! Help me out!"

Professor Granger spun around and glared at James. "One more word out of you or I'll silence you!" she growled. Then, more mildly, she added, "And the same goes for you, Severus."

They wordlessly followed her out of the Owlery and into the castle.

* * *

Harry Potter leaned back in his creaky wooden chair and stretched his arms out. Piled up in neat stacks on his polished wood desk were fifty-one essays on the Patronus Charm, given to him by his sixth year students. It was late afternoon, but the sun still hadn't faded below the horizon yet, so golden rays lazily filtered in through the curtained windows in his private office and warmed up the place. 

All around the room were various personal objects and artifacts he'd collected in his younger years, when Lord Voldemort had still been a threat. Untidy bookshelves with well-worn leather tomes sitting on their shelves filled up an entire wall. Hanging on a rack behind his desk was his first broom, a Cleansweep Four, and leaning against his bed was his newer Firebolt. Autographed pictures of Quidditch stars lined the walls, but they were outnumbered by pictures of his friends and family. In a glass case by the fireplace his first wand lay side-by-side with Voldemort's wand on a velvet cushion; both were completely useless now – in the last battle, both of their magical components had been destroyed, so they were now useless pieces of hollowed-out wood.

A white spark shot out of a chalice sitting on the fireplace's mantle, and Harry smiled to himself. He had set up his message chalice to let him know when the boy had reported to the Owlery for his detention.

"Looks like Severus showed up early then," he murmured to himself.

Straightening his glasses out on his nose, he reached for one of the essays when the flames in his fireplace jumped and turned emerald.

"Harry?"

He stood up and knelt over by the fire, suppressing the urge to simply ignore the fire call. "Ginny. What can I do for you?"

The beautiful young woman smiled shyly at him. When he didn't smile back, she began a little hesitantly, "It's Friday."

"Yes, I know," he answered plainly.

"You aren't coming," she said, a sad look on her face.

"Listen, Ginny, I've got a lot of essays to grade this weekend. I just can't drop all of that."

"You haven't come over for Fridays in so long...Mum's been asking about you, and Dad has too, lately."

In the last few years, as the Weasley family had shrunk in the final years of the war, Mrs. Weasley had started a new tradition of inviting her entire clan over for dinner at the Burrow on Friday evenings. Harry had always been invited too...

"What about James? Is he coming?"

"I'll be sure to ask him."

There was a pregnant silence, and then:

"Come over for her, then, if you won't come over for me. Mum misses you."

The way she'd said it had been so simple, so innocent. There was not a hint of bitterness or poison in her words. But when he looked into her eyes he could see the hurt was still there, and a part of him wanted to comfort her, but he knew that he didn't – he couldn't – travel down that road again.

"I can't, Ginny."

She pursed her lips, nodding slowly.

Her head disappeared from his fireplace and the flames returned to their regular colors. Harry leaned back and sighed heavily, unable to keep his thoughts from wandering back onto their failed relationship. It had felt so right at the time, but other things had come into their life, and he'd found that while he could save the wizarding world, he had been too preoccupied to save his marriage. Now, with the war sixteen years in the past, there was a whole new set of challenges and distractions that were preoccupying him...

There was a knock on his door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Come in."

The door clicked and then fell open, revealing a tall, lanky boy with auburn hair. He wore half-moon spectacles and bowed his head respectfully as he entered.

"Professor Potter."

"Ah, Albus," he said, greeting the Head Boy with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Professor Granger wanted me to tell you to go to the Headmistress' office."

"Did she say why?"

Albus shook his head. "She only said that it was important."

"Very well, then. Thank you, Albus."

* * *

Severus knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. 

Or at least nothing _severely_ wrong.

So as he stood on the spiral steps as they rose steadily up to the Headmistress' office, he let his mind wander. To his side, Potter looked like an absolute nervous wreck – which was a look he thought suited the younger Potter just fine. He hoped he'd see that look more often in the future.

However, more interesting than Potter was Professor Granger. Severus had always thought very highly of her for her sheer genius and innate magical ability which she displayed routinely in her Transfigurations class. His admiration for her had come from afar in the past, as he'd never paid much more attention to her beyond than when he sat in her classroom. He'd never wondered once about her personal life – but now that he was up close to her, he could see there were dark circles beneath her eyes and she looked very, very tired.

Before his thoughts could go any further, the steps came to a stop.

Professor Granger rapped smartly on the ornate wood door, and a voice called out from inside, "Enter, please."

The door swung open by itself and the three stepped into the Headmistress' office.

Before them, the floor was covered by a plush, violet carpet. Matching armchairs were arranged by the fireplace, and hanging above the mantle was a bust of a hideous-looking creature with an unusually long neck and a drooping tongue. The windows were shrouded by faintly shimmering curtains, and lined up next to them were not bookshelves, but dozens of uneven, slanting drawers. They looked like they'd been pulled out of a dresser and stuck haphazardly into the wall.

The ceiling went much higher up than Severus would have expected, and numerous hovering candles provided a soft, warm glow for the room, much like the Great Hall.

Behind the desk, a whole section of drawers opened up like a single door and out walked their Headmistress, Professor Luna Lovegood.

"Professor Granger," she said airily.

"Professor Lovegood," came the humorless reply. Severus suspected that Professor Granger was slightly jealous that Lovegood had earned the position of Headmistress. "I found these two fighting again. This is the seventh time in two months!"

"Please, calm down, Professor. Have a seat. All of you." She gestured to the armchairs. "And if you'll please remove your shoes, as well. The Poxies don't like being stepped on."

Severus noticed for the first time that the Headmistress' bare feet were poking out from underneath the bottom of her robe. Stifling the desire to roll his eyes, he took his shoes off and took a seat.

"I believe we are waiting for one more person..." murmured the Headmistress.

As if that had summoned him, Professor Potter opened the door, politely removing his shoes as he entered the office.

"Professor Lovegood?" he asked, upon seeing his son in the room. "Is everything all right?" Then he caught a glimpse of Severus and he froze. "What's happened?"

"Have a seat, Harry."

He sat down uncomfortably next to Hermione, since there were no other places available.

"Please, Hermione, tell us what happened," asked Luna.

Soon, everyone was filled in on the situation, and Harry was looking very annoyed with his son.

"James, a word with you."

They went outside and sat on the spiral steps, the large wooden door ensuring their privacy from the others.

"You know Luna and I have to choose another Gryffindor prefect now."

"You _can't_...are you really?"

Harry shrugged and sighed. "I don't think you're setting a good example for our house. What's your problem with Severus?"

"He's a Death Eater," spat out James.

"His _father_ was a Death Eater. And he was executed years ago. Believe me, if Severus had the Dark Mark, I would know about it."

"You would."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Harry.

"I don't know," replied James evasively.

He scowled at his fifteen-year-old son. "What's gotten into you? You've been misbehaving all year."

"I don't know, just leave me alone!"

"No, I want you to tell me what's going on with you and Severus!"

"I don't know," he repeated.

Harry let out a tired, exasperated sigh. "Is there something else that's bothering you?"

"No."

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and then Harry said quietly, "Mum wants to know if you're going to the Burrow for dinner tonight."

"Are _you_ going?"

"No."

"Why don't you ever come, Dad?"

"I don't want to talk about this now. Just go use the Floo in my office, you know the password to get in."

James knew there was no use in asking anything else. His father could be an incredibly stubborn, private person when he wanted to be. He left down the steps without saying another word.

* * *

When all was said and done with James, Severus, and the Headmistress, the only real punishment had been the decision to revoke James' status as prefect. Their next choice for prefect had been the quiet and somewhat reserved Remus Lupin. Harry stared blankly at the prefect's badge sitting on his desk. He would give it to Remus sometime tomorrow, in private. He didn't want to make a big deal out of the fact that his son was turning into a delinquent, but he knew that there would be nothing he could do to stop the rumor mill from churning out stories about how James was no longer a prefect. 

It was dark in his office; he had extinguished all the lamps in the room when he'd returned from the Headmistress' office. Even though it was only nine o'clock, it felt much, much later than that, and his body felt so sore. He quickly changed out of his robes and into something more comfortable for bed, when there was a soft tapping on his door.

He knew that tapping, recognized it.

"Come in," he said quietly.

The door was magically bound to open if he said those words and it did, letting Hermione Granger into his office.

"I'm sorry, were you going to sleep?" She hesitated in the doorway. "I can leave. You know what, I'll just go, I'm sorry I bothered you -"

"No, please stay." With a wave of his hand, a few of the lamps in his room lit up, illuminating the office dimly. "Have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

Hermione eased herself into a chair by his fireplace. She sagged down into the cushions, exhausted. "Do you have any alcohol?"

"I haven't got any Ogden's...but I've got hard pumpkin juice."

"It'll do."

He conjured up two drinks and sat down across from her. "So what brings you here?"

"I just wanted someone to talk to."

He gave her a brittle smile, remembering how things used to be between them, and Ron, all those years ago. "I'm afraid I'm not very good company these days, Hermione."

"Please, let's just talk."

"About what?"

"About anything."

"Fine. You start."

Hermione sighed and fixed him with a melancholy gaze. She stared at him a moment longer and then said something that caught Harry completely off-guard. "When was the last time you flew on that thing?" she asked, pointing at his Firebolt.

"W-what?"

"Your broom. When was the last time you flew?"

Harry thought for a second. "I went down to London -"

"For the Dark Arts summit?"

"Er -"

"That was seven months ago, Harry."

He shrugged helplessly. "I'm busy. You should know, we're both bloody professors," he said, allowing a small smile to show.

"Yes, I do know," she murmured softly.

"So..." he started, "why did you ask me that...?"

Once again she fixed him with a piercing stare. Even though she looked at him with tired eyes, he still felt like she was seeing straight to his bones. At last she said, "You just don't look like you're happy. And I remember, once upon a time, that flying used to make Harry Potter happy. Tell me, Harry, are you happy?"

He was startled to notice his drink was empty, so he quickly refilled it. "Want some more juice? Um, well – are _you_ happy, Hermione?" he questioned, a bit uncertainly, since he was unsure of where this conversation was heading.

"No."

"...What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry watched, amazed, as she downed her full glass and then slammed it on the coffee table in front of them. "Hermione?"

"It's...it's Ron, Harry!"

"Oh, no," he said, spotting the tears forming in her eyes. He suddenly remembered that not only was today just any old Friday, it was the exact date that their best friend had passed away. "No, Hermione, don't cry -" he reached out feebly to hold her hand and she clenched on tightly "- please, just..."

She was sobbing now. Harry stood up and moved over to her, wrapping her up in a hug, patting her awkwardly on the back.

"I miss him so much!"

"There, there," he murmured dumbly, feeling like a complete idiot because he had nothing else to say to her. He wore an emotionless expression as he held her in his arms for a few minutes, letting her sob onto his shoulder.

How long had it been now? Ron had died two years before the end of the war... Eighteen years. And Harry had somehow managed to push it out of his mind and move on. He felt a bit selfish all of a sudden, and he blushed.

Hermione was quiet now, but she was still holding on tightly to him, and Harry realized with a start that she was speaking, although so softly he could barely hear her even though she was in his arms.

"...we were going to have kids and name them...we were going to name them..." She gasped and a sob escaped her lips. "We never named them, Harry. We always said we'd figure it out someday... How...how fortunate you are to have had at least one child, Harry."

"Um, thanks."

She pulled away from him, and although her face was stained with tears, she smiled at him. It was a delicate, pretty thing, her smile was, and for just one heartbeat, Harry felt like he was seventeen again, and Hermione was once again his best friend in the world. However, Hermione wasn't his best friend anymore. Time and tragedy had pulled them apart.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, his chest feeling as hollow as his words. "I miss him too."

It didn't look like she'd heard him. She was still smiling, though it was a sad and fragile smile now.

"I -"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence because Hermione closed the distance between them and kissed him. It was a simple kiss, as far as kisses go, but there was an element of pure need in it from both of them. However, before it could turn into something more, Harry jerked back, shocked at what he'd just done.

"Hermione..." he breathed, avoiding her eyes.

"Harry," she pleaded, reaching for his hands, but he backed away even farther.

"I think you should go now. It'd be best. For both of us."

"Harry," she repeated.

"Don't do this, Hermione."

With a last, forlorn look at him, she turned and left his room.

**A/N:**

Some people have mentioned that the character roles are a little confusing to understand within the context of the story, so let me try to explain a little bit.

All of the characters are who they are in the books, including the Marauder-era characters like James, Severus, and Lily. However, because their _parents_ are different, these same characters were brought up differently and are a little different than how we remember them being in the books. Hope that clears some issues up!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

As usual, Friday night at the Burrow was a cheerful and somewhat chaotic affair. Ginny quickly greeted James as he tumbled out of the fireplace with a bright smile and a bone-crushing hug she'd inherited from her mother.

"James!" She licked a finger and began wiping off his ash-smeared face. "Just like your father – I don't think you'll ever get the hang of using the Floo... I'm glad you could make it tonight."

"Oh, it's nothing, mum," he said, trying unsuccessfully to escape her. If he wasn't covered in so much soot, she would have seen that his face was flushed a dark shade of red. Wasn't he getting too old for this? "Mum! I'm fifteen! Can't you let go?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Her smile wavered for a moment but James didn't even notice; he was too busy straightening his robes out. She gestured at him. "Come in, dinner's almost ready. What took you so long? You're usually so early, dear..."

He shrugged. "I got caught up with school things. Nothing important."

Ginny nodded. She backed away and walked through the untidy living room into the equally untidy kitchen. James followed her in and saw his grandmother, zipping all around the stove and overseeing his five year old cousin, who was standing on a footstool and stirring something in a pot.

"Now, now, Luc," said Mrs. Weasley, as she looked over her grandchild's shoulder, "don't stir it too much, you just want to make sure it stays moving around the pot." She suddenly spotted her other grandchild. "James!"

"Hi," he said weakly as he was enveloped in another suffocating hug.

"Just _you_ for dinner tonight?" she asked, a hopeful glint in her weary eyes.

"Harry said he couldn't make it but that he really wanted to come," chipped in Ginny. Her expression was apologetic as she added, "Hogwarts is keeping him busy, you know."

"I see." Mrs. Weasley's lips pressed themselves into a very thin line. "You can go and sit down, the food's almost ready."

Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs with a side of salad accompanied by warm home-cooked bread with tasty olive oil for dipping. Around the great Weasley table were thirteen seats, but only four of them were occupied. Bill had taken Fleur out for a night in London, Harry had chosen to remain at Hogwarts, Arthur was staying at the Ministry late tonight, the twins were busy overseeing their new Hogsmeade location, and Charlie's, Percy's, and Ron's seats had all been empty in the years since the war – nobody at the Burrow had had the heart to take them away.

"Salad," demanded Luc. "I want salad! Salad!"

"James, would you please pass the -"

Without warning, the large bowl of salad lifted itself up and flew across the table, where it crashed down in front of Luc, splattering everything around it with lettuce and dressing.

"Oh, Luc -" admonished Mrs. Weasley, as she sent everything back into the bowl with a wave of her wand. "You need to learn to be patient..."

"His magic's quite impressive," noted Ginny, as she watched Luc pick pieces of salad out of the bowl with his fingers. "James didn't show that much magic when he was Luc's age."

"Yes, I know. You should have seen him earlier today; he was doing horrible things to the garden gnomes. They were so frightened! I don't think they'll be back for a while." She sighed and turned to James. An apprehensive smile appeared on her face as she asked, "So...how are things at Hogwarts?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? Nothing exciting happening?"

"No."

Mrs. Weasley shared a worried glance with Ginny. "Aren't you going to try out for the Quidditch team again?"

"No."

"Why ever not?"

James stabbed at his salad, not bothering to eat any of it. "I didn't make it last year, so why in Merlin's name would they want me on the team this year? It's just stupid."

"Oh, come on, there's no harm in trying -"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" He pushed his plate away. "I'm done eating. Can I go now?"

"James," scolded Ginny. "Be respectful to your grandmother. And you will not leave until you've eaten something. You're all skin and bones!"

The rest of their meal was carried out in relative peace, with no more incidents of accidental magic or adolescent moodiness. When he finally cleared his plate, James jumped off his seat and stomped out of the kitchen. The distant slamming of a door from upstairs let them know he was sulking in his bedroom.

A few minutes later, after the kitchen had been tidied up, Mrs. Weasley said, "Luc, go outside and play, but remember to stay within sight of the house!"

Soon enough, the two Weasley women were left sitting by themselves at the oversized table. Ginny was staring off into space, her mind elsewhere, when her mother suddenly inquired, "So what was the _real_ reason why Harry didn't want to come over tonight?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, mum?" She shook her head and leaned back in her seat, a worried look overtaking her features. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention..."

"How are you and Harry these days?" asked the elder Weasley, wearing a kind expression. "He hasn't been over here in weeks... Is everything all right between you two?"

Ginny peered at her mother and decided to lay her cards out on the table. Their marriage had been shaky for years, but only in the last few months had it truly begun to fall apart. She shrugged and said the only thing she could say about Harry. "No."

Seeing an encouraging nod from her mother, she continued, "We've been having problems for a while now, mum. He's...he's just not the same person that he used to be. I don't feel the same when I'm around him and I don't think he feels the same way around me now, either, and it's just...it's just like we're not right for each other anymore. I _really_ don't like saying this, but I think the only reason we're still together is because of James. And things with _him_ are a completely different story."

She shot her mother a weak grin and then let her chin fall into her hands. Her long red hair drooped over her face.

"I think I see why he wanted to stay at Hogwarts, then," murmured Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum, usually I'm always so anxious, so scared, so _worried_ when we're apart," said Ginny, "but this time...it almost feels good that we're away from each other."

"You can't really mean that, Ginny."

"Well, look at you and dad," she pointed out. "You two are the happiest couple I've ever seen! You don't know what we're going through."

Mrs. Weasley tilted her head to the side. "Well, we've had our rough spots..."

"But you've always stayed together."

Her mother sighed and looked her in the eye. "Do you want your marriage to work out or not?"

"Of course I do, mum. More than anything."

"Then just believe in it. Just believe that it'll all work out in the end."

"How can I do that? How can I believe that we'll make it through when he doesn't even want to spend time with me? He didn't even want to talk to me when I spoke to him through the Floo this evening!"

"You just need to _believe_."

"I don't think I can do that."

"You believed in him before, when he fought You-Know-Who."

Ginny tossed her hair out of her face. "That was different."

"I don't see how, dear," remarked Mrs. Weasley, reaching out and holding Ginny's hand. She smiled. "You had faith then, why can't you have faith in him now?"

oOo

The rest of the weekend at Hogwarts passed by uneventfully. In an effort to forget about the night before, Harry worked so hard on his students' essays that they were all graded by midday on Saturday, leaving him restless for the remainder of the day. In his newfound spare time, he had plenty of time to think – too much time, in fact, as he found that his thoughts kept drifting back to Hermione.

Never would he have suspected that she'd be so lonely, but then again, he hadn't spoken to her since the end of the war, so he'd had no way of knowing what had been on her mind. Even after she'd been hired as a fellow professor at Hogwarts last year, he'd had no real desire to begin talking to her again. It would've been far too awkward – it would've brought back far too many unpleasant memories...

How had his life ended up like this?

He sighed, and decided to go for a stroll around the grounds. Maybe it would help to clear his mind and he'd be able to forget about things for a while.

oOo

A light breeze danced in through the treetops and swept across the lawn outside Hogwarts, where colored leaves lay strewn about in tousled clumps. Harry stepped out from the entrance hall and shivered, wishing he'd thought to bring along his cloak. Although it was just past noon, thick autumn clouds blotted out the sun, hanging in the sky like enormous pieces of dead wool. The dreary lighting and slight chill did nothing to improve his mood.

His boots crunched noisily over the fallen leaves and he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. Off in the distance he could see the ruins of Hagrid's old hut. Tangly vines and tall grasses had grown all around it, as if discouraging anyone else from ever claiming the place as home. Harry smiled to himself – he couldn't imagine anyone else living there. He stopped for a moment, staring at the building, feeling nostalgic. Fang had been buried near the edge of the Forbidden Forest years ago, though Harry couldn't remember exactly where. He had half a mind to hike over to try and find it, but thought better of it.

It wouldn't do to dwell too much on the past. After all, his past was much gloomier than his present, and what good would it do him if he worried about depressing things that had already happened? They were done and over with – nothing could change his past; not even the most powerful Time Turner would bring him back far enough to make things right again.

He moved on, away from the forest and past the lake. Up ahead, he could see the sturdy iron gates, the only way in and out of Hogwarts for anyone who wasn't a student. Next to it was a sad-looking tree with a solitary stone underneath its gnarled branches.

He forced out a sigh and stared dully at it.

_Ronald Weasley_

_Beloved friend, brother, and son._

_Your courage will never be forgotten._

His actual body was buried somewhere in Ottery St. Catchpole with the rest of his Weasley ancestors, but this stone stood, serving as an eternal reminder of his last act of bravery, because this was the exact spot where he had died. Even though it was really only a memorial plaque, Harry wouldn't ever think of it as anything else besides a gravestone.

_No_, he corrected himself, as he thought about Ron some more, _Ron didn't just die – he was _murdered.

As he turned to leave, he saw the Hogwarts front gates open up and a black-cloaked man strode through. There was a certain grace to his movements, yet the haughty, stiff way he kept his shoulders pulled back and the carefully groomed hair atop his head belied his true nature. A smirk slid onto his face and he stopped a few meters away from Harry.

"Mr. Potter. So good to see you again."

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

Draco _tsked_ disapprovingly and shook his head, all the while still wearing his smug little grin. "You should try and be more respectful, Potter. You're forgetting who I am."

"You're a self-interested prick, that's who you are."

He chuckled. "I won't disagree with that. But I'm also a Hogwarts governor...which puts me in charge of your _life_. Tell me," he said as he examined his fingernails, "how many Galleons do you earn a year?"

"That's none of your business, Malfoy."

"Are you just saying that because you're embarrassed?"

"You never answered my question," Harry pressed on. "What are you doing here?"

Draco lazily shifted his weight around on his cane. "Professor Lovegood."

"I don't understand."

He shot Harry a self-assured smile. It was an absolutely infuriating gesture. "Oh, I do believe you will find out in due time." Draco's gaze drifted over Harry's shoulder to the memorial stone. "Ah..._Weasley_. Come here often, do you? To cry over your dead boyfriend?"

Harry ground his teeth together and his hand closed around his wand. With as much self-control as he could muster, he said, "Really, Malfoy. Grow up. And get out of my sight."

Draco merely gave Harry an unconcerned wave of his hand before he turned on his heel and treaded up to the castle.

The wind picked up, tossing the leaves through the air – and Harry shivered again, though it wasn't from the cold.

oOo

Harry hadn't seen nor heard of Draco for the rest of the weekend after their initial meeting outside the school, and when he'd come upon Hermione at the Great Hall for supper on Saturday evening, she had smiled at him and treated him like nothing strange had happened. Even when his son had stumbled out of his fireplace on Sunday night, no bitter words had been exchanged – James had simply mumbled hello and slunk out of his office.

In short, Harry had high hopes for a return to normality on Monday. He awoke in a relatively good mood as the sun peeked out over the horizon, and began tidying himself up and getting prepared for the rest of the day. When he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, his cheerful spirits were suddenly quashed when he saw Draco Malfoy sitting at the end of the teacher's table.

They made eye contact from across the hall and Draco waved smugly at him. Harry warily approached the table and took a seat at the opposite end, wondering furiously what this was all about. He noticed Hermione slip in through a side entrance and saw her do a double take as she spotted Draco.

She took a seat next to Harry and whispered to him, "What's going on with him?" She nodded her head over at Draco.

"I saw him the other day," he replied. "He said he's here because of Luna."

"_Luna?_ She's not in trouble, is she?"

"I don't know – look, here she comes now...maybe she'll make an announcement..."

Sure enough, Luna paused at the front of the table and waited for all of the professors to quiet themselves. She smiled placidly at them and clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Good morning, everyone. I have a few things I'd like the staff to know. First, a Siberian Shambler has been spotted by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, so make sure you all exercise caution when traveling near the woods for the next week or so, before it migrates back north. Secondly, Moaning Myrtle complained that someone has vandalized her toilets – if you hear any of your students bragging about this, please take appropriate action. Myrtle can be _quite_ annoying when she's upset. Lastly, I'd like to introduce you all to Draco Malfoy, one of Hogwarts' school governors. He'll be staying here indefinitely while he conducts evaluations of the staff."

No one moved or said a word when she was done – except for Draco. He cleared his throat noisily and then stood up without being asked.

"Thank you, Professor Lovegood. It's come to the attention of the board that Hogwarts is losing its shine. Our school has been – and will be – one of, if not _the _most prestigious wizarding schools in all of Europe. Certain individuals at the Ministry have expressed concern about this – and so, for the next month or so, I'll be sitting in on your classes at random intervals... You'd better make sure you're doing a top notch job if I decide to show up." He looked pointedly over at Harry as he said this. "That is all. Carry on."

Neville Longbottom, the Herbology professor, snorted loudly and Draco whirled around, a frigid look on his face. "I think I might just stop by _your_ class this morning, Longbottom."

Neville glared at the back of Draco as he walked away. "Just who does he think he is?" he said angrily.

"Don't worry about it, Neville." Hermione gave him a pat on the shoulder. "He's still just as petty and self-centered as he was when we all went to school here together. Don't let his job title scare you. Take a stand against him the next time he tries to intimidate you."

"I don't know." Neville shrugged and looked down at the floor. "I don't want to lose my job..."

"Luna is practically in _love_ with you, Neville," pointed out Harry. "There's no way you're being sacked. I guarantee it."

"Well..."

"It's okay, Neville. Everyone here knows you're the best Herbology professor the school's ever had."

"Er – thanks, Harry."

The two watched him leave the Great Hall with a little more confidence in his step. Hermione lightly touched Harry on the shoulder and he almost jumped, but he managed to stop himself just in time.

"You look lost, Harry," she commented.

Her hand was still on him and his eyes dipped down to look at it before he replied, "I was just thinking...do you really think Draco is just here for evaluations?"

"Well...what do _you_ think, Harry? You're the expert on stopping evil schemes and dark lords."

"Right," he said humorlessly. Then he cast a quick glance around and added, "I'm actually not sure about Draco."

Hermione's expression became serious. "Do you think he has something planned?"

"I don't know. But I think we ought to keep a closer eye on him while he's here." Harry gave her a wry grin. "You with me?"

She looked him right in the eye, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Of course, Harry."

oOo

It was Monday morning – _late_ Monday morning.

James had slept straight through breakfast and most of Potions. He hastily tried to get dressed in his deserted dormitory, struggling to fit on his undershirt (he realized after a minute he was trying to put it on backwards) and frantically searching for his prefect's badge. Then he remembered that his father had taken it away from him the other night, and his mood soured.

He slipped into his Potions class with a scowl on his face.

Professor Macmillan shook his head disapprovingly as James took his seat at the back of the room and set his books on the desk in front of him.

"Mr. Potter," he said reproachfully. "You're late."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?"

"I _said_," James announced clearly, "I apologize for my tardiness, sir. It won't happen again."

Professor Macmillan smiled easily at him. "I sure hope not. _Now_...back to the properties of the nirnroot. On page two hundred twenty three you can clearly observe that, when coupled with..."

The professor droned on. James had been in the classroom for only a few minutes and he'd also gotten an extra few hours of sleep – yet he already felt like putting his head down on the desk and dozing away the rest of the day. In an effort to make things interesting, he tried to catch Lily's eye. When she finally looked over, she rolled her eyes and shifted her books to her side so she could ignore him. Slightly put off, James figured the only way to make the time go faster would be to pay attention. He reluctantly pulled out a blank sheet of parchment and began taking notes on the lecture.

oOo

After Potions, James caught up to Lily in the hallway on their way to Transfiguration class. She didn't make it easy – in fact, James could've sworn she was actively trying to _avoid_ him – but eventually he managed to tap her on the shoulder and she had no choice but to turn around and acknowledge him.

"Lily," he breathed, sending her a bright smile. "I -"

"What _now_, Potter?"

He was slightly caught off-guard by her annoyed tone. "I...er -"

"I see they've taken away your badge," she said, glancing at his breast, where he'd once worn his shiny prefect's badge.

"Oh, _that..._well, don't remind me..."

"James!" She gave him a disparaging look. "You lost your badge because you were fighting Severus again, didn't you?"

"Hey...er -" He glared at her. "Snivelly is a right pain in the -"

"You won't ever get it, won't you?" she spat. Lily jabbed a finger at his chest. "What did Severus _ever_ do to you, James? You've shown him absolutely _nothing_ but hatred since the first time you ever saw him!"

"Yeah, well," he shot back heatedly, "it's not as simple as that!"

"Oh, it isn't? Would you care to explain?"

"I -"

"You're just an arrogant, bullying brat, James Potter."

"No, I -"

Lily's gaze became frosty. "Leave me alone."

She roughly pushed past him and sped away, without giving him a chance to reply. He stared at her receding figure, admiring her beautiful red hair, her shapely figure, and...

_Just what does she see in that git?_ he wondered to himself. James kicked his foot along the floor as he let out an exasperated sigh. _I suppose I'll just have to figure out what it is on my own..._

oOo

Transfiguration was a double class – an even split between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Hermione always wondered about how this class had ever come to be – of all the house combinations there _could_ have been, the schedules had ended up giving her these two houses specifically.

There were ten students from each of the two houses, and in the years since she'd left Hogwarts as a student, the inter-house rivalries hadn't subsided – they'd flourished.

Hermione decided that the war must have brought students together more than it pushed them apart. However, now that there was peace...

The tension between the students in this particular class was perhaps the worst she'd ever seen in all of her years as a student and a professor at the school. There wasn't a single class in which there wasn't at least _some _issue.

She could tell as her students filed in that the edginess was unusually high today. James and Severus were usually the worst, so she watched them more closely than the others – and by observing the way they kept shooting hateful glances at each other, she knew that something bad was going to happen. If she didn't do something to separate them, then it would only be a matter of time before one of the two began with the hostilities and then the whole class would be ruined by their shenanigans.

Thinking hastily, she scribbled a pointless note and stepped over toward James.

He looked up at her as she approached. "Professor?"

"James," she said, "could I trouble you to take this note to Professor Abbott?"

"Why?" he asked sullenly. "I'm not a prefect anymore, or don't you remember? Go and ask Remus instead."

How could she have forgotten? "I'm sorry, James," she apologized, trying to make a hasty retreat.

Already she could see her plan had failed. Severus was wearing a broad grin as he glanced over at them. James sank down in his seat, but there was a mutinous shadow on his face now.

"Professor Granger, I can take it," offered Remus.

"Yes, yes, please, bring that to...er – to Professor Abbott," she replied, distracted. "Um." Hermione looked out at her class. They stared back at her expectantly. It was quite possible that they had never seen their Transfigurations professor appear so clueless before.

"Class, take out your texts and -"

"Professor Granger," interrupted Lily.

"Yes?" She fixed the girl with an anxious look. Lily Evans never spoke out of turn. "What is it?"

"You mentioned on Friday that today would be a practical class. I didn't bring my text."

Just then Hermione noticed that nobody in the entire room had taken out their books. All of her students were sitting quietly behind blank desks. Some of them were peering at her with concern now.

"Oh? Oh, _yes_." She smiled brightly, as if she'd known all along. Suddenly she was back on track; it was time to get into the swing of things and get her sixth year double Transfigurations class up and running smoothly. "Wands out!"

There was a rustling of material as everyone drew their wands from their robes.

"Today we're going through a few exercises on our spells. I _hope_ you've all been practicing the material in chapter six over the weekend! Anyone who can't successfully perform their spellwork by the end of class will be assigned twelve inches of parchment on the six properties of transfiguration when dealing with multiple changes in an object. Now, find a partner and _begin_."

It was right at that moment that Hermione Granger realized her mistake.

Lily Evans usually paired up with Remus Lupin for their work in this class, but since she had sent poor Remus off on a fool's errand...

"What are you doing, Snivelly?" she heard James bluster.

"Me? What are _you_ doing, Potter?" Severus looked back at him with a sneer.

"_I _was just going to ask Miss Evans to be my partner."

"I was going to do the same," drawled Severus, "before I was so _rudely_ interrupted."

"Oh, is that what you were doing?" James smirked. "I thought -"

"Stop it, _both_ of you!" snapped Lily. She stepped right in between them. "I am _not_ going to be fought over for something as _stupid_ as this!"

"Lils -"

"_Don't_ call me that, James!"

In a calm voice, Severus murmured, "Lily, come on, you and I both know that he's just being a selfish prat again -"

She whirled around on him, fire dancing in her eyes. "And _you're _one to talk about being selfish!"

"I...what?"

"You're just as much of a prat as _he _-" she jerked her head toward James "- is, and you know it."

"I don't understand -"

Lily let out a deep breath, blowing her hair out of her face. "Of course you don't." She glared. "_Neither_ of you seem to be capable of understanding anything."

And with that, she brushed past the two of them, leaving them speechless. After a short moment, James glowered at Severus.

"You just had to go mess things up for me, didn't you?"

"Me? Mess things up for you?" Severus scowled. In a low, threatening voice he said, "Your life's perfect, you spoiled prick."

"No, it's not perfect, because _you're_ in it."

He scoffed at James, shaking his head. "You're such an ignorant fool, Potter."

"You two!" called out Hermione, hurrying over. She stopped a few feet away and leveled a steely gaze at them. "Have either of you found partners yet?"

"No," they both replied.

"Mr. Crick still needs a partner. Would one of you be so kind as to work with him?"

Severus grunted and walked away, leaving James standing next to Hermione.

"Well then, James," she began. "Since we have an odd number of people in the class right now, I'll work with you."

"Oh, no, professor, I couldn't possibly impose -"

"Nonsense, James. Let's see how your spells look today."

He shot one last fleeting glance over at Lily before drawing his wand. "What am I changing?" he asked dully.

"This." Hermione pulled an apple out of her robe and set it on the desk in front of them. "Try and make _three distinct_ transformations to it..."

James pointed his wand at the apple and frowned in concentration. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he muttered, "_Mogriphicus_."

"It's pronounced _moh-gryf-i-CUSS_, James, not _mog-rif-i-kiss_," corrected Hermione.

"Sorry, professor."

"That's quite all right. Try again."

"_MogriphiCUS_."

The apple stubbornly remained a dark red and didn't display any dazzling effects of magic. James sighed noisily and Hermione saw his gaze travel over to Lily again.

"Concentrate, James!" Hermione lightly scolded him.

He rolled his eyes and tried again. "_Mogriphicus!_"

Once again, nothing happened.

"This is stupid," he said.

"You're just not applying yourself, James," Hermione mentioned. "You have to have a crystal clear image in your head of what changes you want to make..."

"This is stupid," he repeated.

"You're being disrespectful. Five points from Gryffindor."

"Why don't you make it ten?"

"_Fine_ then, if that's the way you want it," she replied evenly. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Any more points you'd like deducted?"

James avoided her gaze and didn't say anything.

"All right, then. Try the spell again."

He tilted his head to the side. "Professor?"

"Yes, James, what is it?" she responded curtly. He was starting to get on her nerves.

"On Friday...in the Owlery...I said something to you."

On Friday, in the Owlery? She'd brought both he and Severus to Luna's office on that night...but what had he said to her?

"Yes, go on," she murmured, mildly curious as to where the young man could be going with this.

"I...I think I said something like, 'I thought you and dad were supposed to be friends.'"

"Yes..." Hermione _did_ remember that. And she also remembered that she'd nearly ripped his head off for saying it. But why was he bringing this up now? "Yes...is there anything else you'd like to say, James?"

He shrugged. "I guess...I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, that's all."

"Why are you apologizing, James?" she questioned softly. Never before had she seen such an honest expression on the boy's face.

"I think I offended you. You and he aren't friends anymore, are you?"

"Well, I -"

"He used to talk about you a lot, so I just thought that..."

"Harry used to talk about me?" Hermione blinked. Post-war Harry...talking about her to his son? In a quiet voice, she asked, "What...what did he say?"

"All sorts of beautiful, wonderful things, I'm sure," said a cold voice.

Both Hermione and James jumped as they saw Draco for the first time. He was standing only about a foot away, and judging by the pleased expression on his face, he'd been eavesdropping on their conversation for some time now.

"Mr. Malfoy, how nice of you to...to drop in," stammered Hermione, still a little unbalanced from the combination of her conversation with James and Draco's unexpected arrival.

"Yes, I've learned a great deal about your teaching style, Miss Granger. First you let your students bicker among themselves and then you engage in off-topic conversation with your friend's son. Blatant favoritism." He smiled blithely and wrote something down in a notepad. "_Yes_...this has been a _most_ informative visit." His emotionless grey eyes stared unsettlingly at them. "Good day, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter."

**A/N, 6/19/07:**

I borrowed the nirnroot from Tamriel, and Mr. Crick is named after Harold Crick, from Stranger Than Fiction, which I just saw and enjoyed immensely. And, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"All right, everyone, gloves on!"

There was a faint rustling as the students in the greenhouse put on their gloves. Professor Longbottom waited until he was sure all of his students were paying attention before he continued on with his lesson.

"Today we're going to be working with a _very_ dangerous specimen, which is why we're taking these extra precautions."

Someone in the back of the room yawned. Not wanting to lose the fifth year Hufflepuffs' interest so soon, he hastily reached to the shelf beneath his desk and pulled out a ceramic pot. Neville heard a few gasps and sounds of awe as it came into view – its dark green vines flailed about, looking more like octopus tentacles than plant parts. Then, as if on cue, an insect flew too close to the plant and was snatched out of the air in the blink of an eye.

Neville smiled to himself as he heard one of his students say, "Wicked!"

"Does anyone know what this is called? Miss Sprout?"

"It's the Killer Tentaculus!"

"Very good! Five points to Hufflepuff." He poked the Tentaculus and the plant's tentacles flew out and ensnared his gloved finger. "It's called the "Killer" Tentaculus because although it's a plant, it's very much a predator. Now, be very careful and reach under your tables to retrieve your own pots...good."

There were now about a half dozen writhing Tentaculuses positioned in front of his students at their tables.

"The Tentaculus, or as it's more commonly called, The _Killer _Tentaculus, originates from Greece. Their diet consists mostly of insects, some small rodents, and the occasional unsuspecting student..."

Neville looked out over his class, expecting to see some smiles, but he noticed right away that everyone's eyes were downcast and the room had become unusually still. Even the Tentaculus had relinquished its grip on his finger. He swung his head back and forth, searching for the disturbance, but he was interrupted by a stiff _ahem_ from behind him.

"Continue on with your lesson, Professor," said a bored-looking Malfoy.

Neville blinked. "Right..." He turned his attention to his students again. "Now...where was I?"

"_Poor short-term memory,_" he heard Draco mutter. Neville swiveled around to see Malfoy scribbling down notes on a little hand-held scroll. Draco raised his eyebrows innocently at Neville's insulted expression. "You seem distracted today. Do you feel well, Longbottom? Maybe you shouldn't be teaching."

"I feel...fine," Neville replied, feeling somewhat less than fine, knowing that Draco Malfoy was standing directly behind him. "So, the Killer Tentaculus -"

"Excuse me, did I hear you just mention the _Killer Tentaculus_?"

"Yes, I did!" Neville snapped, annoyed with Draco's interruption. His cheeks reddened. "Yes, I did," he repeated more calmly. "What about it?"

Draco was staring at the plant with an expression of utter revulsion on his face. "Don't you think it's...well..._dangerous_?"

"Yes, I -"

"If you agree with me that it's dangerous, then why in Merlin's name are you showing it to a bunch of witless students?"

"We're wearing _gloves._"

"Gloves?" Malfoy smirked as Neville held up his hands. "I hope they've been enchanted properly, so everyone is protected from the Tentaculus venom. I hear it's quite deadly."

"_Venom_?" squeaked a girl. She pushed her chair away too hastily; in doing so, she shook the table and the Tentaculus resting on its surface tipped over and rolled into the lap of her lab partner. The other girl screamed as the Tentaculus's tentacles latched onto her neck. Letting out a yelp, she leapt out of her seat, struggling fiercely to get the killer plant off.

"Somebody help me!"

As she fought against the plant, the pot fell off its bottom and crashed to the floor. The Tentaculus, now free to move about, began to crawl up her neck until it sat on top of her head.

"Don't move, Bones!" cried Neville, hurrying over to the girl. He was too preoccupied to notice Draco write something else down on his scroll. "Don't move – I can remove it if you just keep still...!"

"HELP ME!!!" she shrieked, dancing erratically through the room, bumping into other students and tables, but thankfully not knocking any other Tentaculuses onto the floor.

"It won't hurt you if you _stop moving_!"

"I'll save you!" shouted a fifth year boy, taking aim with his wand.

"PERKINS, NO!" ordered Neville, but it was too late.

Red sparks fired out from the end of Perkins's wand, missing the plant, but striking Amelia's robes, setting them on fire.

"AHHHHHHH!"

By now the rest of the Hufflepuffs were out of their seats, crowding around Neville and their poor classmate in a loose circle.

"_Aguamenti!_" Water shot from Neville's wand, extinguishing the flames. The rising smoke wafted up onto the Tentaculus, dazing it, and its flailing tentacles slowed down. "_Accio Tentaculus!_"

The plant was ripped off of the girl's head and into Neville's arms, where he expertly handled it and calmed it down with a whispered spell.

"Professor! Amy needs to go to the Hospital Wing!"

Neville coughed on the smoke and nodded, gesturing them out. Not just one or two Hufflepuffs left – they all exited the greenhouse, supporting Amelia and saying encouraging words to her. When the room was nearly empty, Neville glanced over at the doors and saw Draco standing there, writing down one last thing in his notes. Malfoy met his gaze and chuckled as he left.

oOo

Puffy clouds slid across the ceiling in the Great Hall. Students and professors alike hurried in and out, coming to and from their afternoon classes. Above all of the chattering, a few owls swooped in through the open windows, delivering late letters and parcels. James shuffled glumly up to the Gryffindor table and took a seat far away from anyone else. He wasn't in the mood for company right now.

A silver dish with a sandwich appeared in front of him, but he pushed it away, and it disappeared with a soft _pop_. He imagined that some house-elf beneath the school was scratching its head in confusion at seeing the untouched food.

He sighed – his appetite wasn't what was bothering him.

Up near the front of the Great Hall he watched as Professor Granger sat down at her usual place at the teacher's table with her lunch. Shewas the reason why he was feeling so down this afternoon.

Well, to be fair, it wasn't _her_ that had put him into such a gloomy mood; it had been Draco Malfoy. James felt terrible that he'd gotten her in trouble. Now he'd put Professor Granger into a position where she could potentially lose her job...

He didn't want that! Professor Granger might have been strict and tough, yes, but his dad had always said wonderful things about her before...

He was starting to regret that he'd turned away that sandwich now. James glanced at his wristwatch and groaned – it was time for his next class already! He stood up and jogged out of the Great Hall.

oOo

Harry Potter sighed in relief. He'd just watched over all of his third year students fight off a Boggart during his two morning classes and now he was feeling completely drained. One of the Boggarts had turned into a Cornish Pixie and it had caused quite a disaster, destroying things in his classroom and also embarrassing the particular student who had called it. It had taken Harry twenty minutes to clean up the mess and restore order to his students, by which time the class had ended. Now, both he and his stomach couldn't wait to sit down in the Great Hall and get something to eat.

As he walked down the aisle to get to the teacher's table, he saw his son breeze past him without even muttering a simple hello. Harry shook his head in disapproval and continued on his way up, wondering what trouble James was getting into this time.

He sat down away from Hermione, who was engrossed in a copy of the latest Transfigurations publication and didn't see him approach. Harry wasn't much in the mood to talk to her; even though she'd been behaving quite normally around him, _he_ still didn't feel very comfortable in her presence. There was something about the way she spoke to him, glanced at him, that made him feel like her outward normal appearance was just an act – and that at any moment she was going to try and do something stupid again.

Harry was a man who'd been through plenty of tough situations in his life, yet that didn't mean he particularly _enjoyed_ experiencing them all. Having an affair with his former best friend was on the bottom of his list of Things To Do.

As he relaxed in his seat and a warm meal was summoned before him, Hedwig flew by and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on his head. He unfolded the paper and read the headline:

_**CHUDLEY CANNONS SIGN DAVIES**_

_Is the championship in sight with the acquisition of this all-star Chaser from Glasgow? Read on to see what fans, players, and coaches have to say!_

And then below that there was a small, insignificant-looking paragraph which read:

_**500 Galleon Reward**_

_Obliviator Arnold Peasegood of the Ministry of Magic has been reported missing. He was last seen leaving the Ministry at around 8 PM on Thursday evening. His family has offered a reward of 200 Galleons for anyone who has any information regarding this matter._

Harry frowned and read the article again. Something wasn't right. He carefully examined it a third time and shook his head in frustration. The seemingly innocent lack of details bothered him, yet he couldn't put his finger on exactly why the article had him on edge.

_Arnold Peasegood?_ he thought to himself. _Never heard of him..._

He shrugged, pushing his worries and Arnold Peasegood off to the side as he noticed Neville sidle over towards him.

"Neville," he greeted pleasantly. Noting his friend's worn appearance, he asked, "Having a bad day, eh?"

"Yes. It could be going better." Neville sighed. "I had my evaluation this morning."

"Oh? How did that go?"

"It was _horrible_, Harry."

"It couldn't have been _that_ bad -"

"I think I lost my job."

Harry stared at Neville, finally seeing that he was being very serious and that there were dark bags hanging beneath his eyes. At length he finally said,"What makes you say that?"

"You remember Malfoy and how he was in school," came the reply, bitter and resentful. "The git hasn't changed a bit." Neville smiled weakly. "If you know Malfoy, then you can probably guess how my evaluation went. I can't stand the bloke, Harry. If only he weren't so rich..."

"...then there'd be someone else just as horrible as him holding his title," finished Harry, "but only not as rich."

"Why didn't you get a job at the Ministry?" Neville suddenly wondered. "You could have been the new Minister, after Fudge went missing all those years ago."

Harry sighed. "The Ministry seems to attract some power hungry people these days. I don't know if I want to get involved in all of that. I'm no good at politics, and I don't really like them anyway."

"I s'pose I can see where you're coming from, then. Still, though, it's a shame that instead of _you_ running the Ministry, we've got that toad -"

"Insulting the Minister?"

Both Harry and Neville tensed up immediately as Draco – as he was doing quite often nowadays – appeared out of thin air beside them, wearing a killer's grin.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" inquired Harry.

"I'm merely observing what seems to be a _perfidious_ discussion between the two of you."

"Perfidious? What in Merlin's name are you on about?" challenged Neville, frowning.

"_Perfidious_. It means treacherous. Like a traitor." The former Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Just a moment ago you were saying how horrible our current Minister is and that _Potter_ ought to be Minister instead. Sounds like treason to me."

"That's not what I said -"

"You don't want to upset the wrong people, Longbottom. Try being a little more careful with what you say and do around here," Draco continued on, cutting him off. "_Especially_ after your less than impressive performance in class this morning."

Neville gulped. On his friend's behalf, Harry interjected, "I think you'd best be moving on, Malfoy."

The other man sneered and then walked away from the High Table. Harry and Neville traded uncertain looks before finishing their meals in silence.

oOo

An ancient clock on the wall told Lily it was nearing midnight. It felt to her as if the long arm was steadily speeding up, like it was racing to beat its shorter companion to the number twelve at the top of the face. But she knew that wouldn't happen – her mind was only entertaining such notions because she was so tired.

Lily's thoughts were feeling a bit muddled tonight as she mulled over two things in her head: James and Severus.

They were both so _aggravating!_

Neither one of them could bother to leave her alone for very long, and if they did, it was only because they were too busy fighting each other over her. Wouldn't the boys ever learn? Black eyes and bloody noses didn't impress her.

She stretched her arms out and looked around the almost deserted common room. There were still a few other Gryffindors from different years relaxing in chairs or hunched over books, but thankfully there was no James. She saw Albus, the Head Boy, return quietly through the portrait hole, finished with his rounds. He waved at Lily and shot her a genial smile, which she returned easily. It was such a shame that the two boys who liked her couldn't show a little more maturity or restraint like Albus. Was it really so difficult to behave a little?

She cracked a wry grin to herself. _It's a shame Albus isn't better looking... He's always got that gross chin stubble! Like that boy's ever going to grow a beard. _

With a self-amused snort and a shake of her head, she pushed the thought out of her head. _No... Besides – he's completely taken with that other seventh year girl. What's her name...Melissa? Mindy? Min...?_

"Mind if I join you?"

Lily jumped in her seat as she peered up at the last person she'd wanted to see tonight. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at James. "You know, I was just going to bed -"

"No you weren't," he said dully. "You were sitting here by the window, looking like you needed some company."

"What do you want, James?" she asked in a weary voice. "I really am tired."

"I just want to talk."

"Talk? That's it?" Lily scoffed. "That must be a first for the great James Evans, King of Hogwarts and Everything Else – the only thing I ever see you doing is tormenting Severus."

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and turned his gaze to the floor. "I don't mean to."

"No, of course you don't," she replied sarcastically, letting her anger with him out. "_Severus_ is the one who provokes you all the time. Poor little you – you don't have any choice but to curse, hex, and make his life even more miserable than it already is whenever you can!"

"He's not perfect either."

"Oh, and so that means _you_ are?" Lily glared at him. "James Potter, I put up with you every day, and I'm not in the mood to do so right now. Good _night_."

"Wait!"

"Good night, Potter."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Please, just stay here with me."

Lily spun around. There was a frosty tone to her voice as she announced in a voice loud enough for everyone in the common room to hear, "James Potter, _take your hand off_ _of me _right now!"

Immediately it seemed as if every single Gryffindor stopped what he or she was doing and stared at them. A few of the younger kids wore expressions of amusement while the older ones who knew James and Lily tried to pretend as if they weren't listening.

Without another word, Lily stomped up the steps to the girls' dormitories.

Although James felt incredibly embarrassed at the moment, he clenched his teeth together in frustration.

"What's the _matter_ with her?" he growled under his breath.

oOo

Morning arrived and James reluctantly left the comfort and warmth of his bed to begin preparing for the day. As he marched down to the common room, his curiosity was piqued as he saw a bunch of other students cluttered around a sign on the wall.

"What's going on?"

Nobody heard him, everyone was talking so loudly.

In his impatience to read the sign, he shoved aside Peter Pettigrew, who shot him a dirty look that went unnoticed by James. Squinting his sleepy eyes, he read:

_Educational Decree No. 1_

_Draco Malfoy has been instated as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"High Inquisitor? What's that?" he overheard somebody say. "Remus, do you know?"

"No. I'm not sure what this is about. I'll have to ask Potter," answered Remus, scratching his head. Then, catching James's eye, he amended, "_Professor_ Potter, I mean."

A few kids looked over at James, and he felt a momentary flash of annoyance with the reminder that he was no longer a prefect. Turning his back on them, he solemnly walked through the portrait hole.

While walking down to the Great Hall, James repeated the words _High Inquisitor_ under his breath again and again, stretching his brain to try and figure out what it was about them that made him feel so uneasy...

oOo

At breakfast in the Great Hall, James had expected the student population to be discussing Educational Decree Number 1, but to his surprise, nobody seemed to really care.

When he questioned a passing Ravenclaw about the news, the girl shrugged and said, "It's inconsequential, isn't it?"

"Er, yeah," he responded. "Inconsequential."

"Professor Lovegood was a Ravenclaw," the girl went on, a hint of pride in her voice. "I'm confident that she'll deal with the situation appropriately."

He walked over to the Gryffindor table in a daze, wondering if everyone was really that unconcerned about it.

James scanned the High Table, looking for his dad, wanting to ask him about the High Inquisitor, but he stopped as he saw Draco Malfoy seated in the middle. The other professors up there had given him a wide berth, clustering around both ends of the table, talking amongst themselves. Dimly James noticed that Luna wasn't present, but then he spotted his dad and he hurried up to go and talk to him.

"Dad!" he called out.

His father was deep in conversation with Neville, and he glanced up at his son as he approached.

"Hey, James," he sighed.

"Dad, what's going on? Why is _he_ sitting over there?"

"Didn't you see the sign? They're hanging in all of the common rooms. You should know about Educational Decree Number One."

"Yes, I do know that, but -"

"Then what did you want to know?"

James held back from rolling his eyes. "_Why?_ Why does Hogwarts have a High Inquisitor now?"

Sensing his son's growing impatience, Harry calmly said, "Because the Ministry feels that this school is in need of...a helping hand."

"A helping hand? What's that mean?"

Harry hesitated before replying, "It means that the Ministry is interfering here."

"Interfering?" James blinked. "Well, _do_ something about it, dad! Write to the Minister, or maybe put an article in the Daily Prophet about it, or..."

Neville chuckled. He shot a sidelong glance at Harry as he said, "I thought _you_ were the one who had a vendetta against Malfoy?"

Harry frowned at his son. "Why are you so angry? If Malfoy hears you talking like this you'll get into even _more_ trouble, and believe me, if that happens _he'll_ be the least of your worries."

"I..." James struggled to find an answer. "Well, you've always talked about him before and how much of a git he is."

"You're right," Harry conceded, nodding. "But I had no idea you hated him so much." He stared at James, his emerald gaze piercing and disarming. "Is there something that you're not telling me?"

"No."

"James." The word had been spoken flatly, but there was a tone of '_Come on, I know there's something else going on._'

"Nothing, dad! Just leave me alone!"

"_You're_ the one who came up to me -"

"Just leave me alone," James repeated, frowning. He blew out an exasperated breath and strode away, leaving no more room for conversation.

oOo

Monday, despite being the first day of Draco Malfoy's tenure as High Inquisitor, ended without even so much of a hiccup. Although Malfoy was quite visible prowling about the hallways intimidating students, there were no grand announcements from he or Luna about what he was really doing at Hogwarts. When evening arrived, there wasn't a single conversation in the Gryffindor common room about Malfoy.

James was upset that nobody else seemed to be upset – shouldn't everyone else be outraged by Malfoy being a High Inquisitor? He was just angry about it; plus he was also angry about so much more in his life too, but there wasn't anyone he could talk to who would understand him...

Just as he'd done last night, James waited until Lily stepped through the portrait hole. But Lily, upon spotting James, made a beeline for the stairs up the girls' dormitories and he never got a chance to talk to her. The other Gryffindors in his year, Remus, Peter, Frank, and the reclusive Sirius Black, all avoided him, so he sat all by himself, feeling quite alone in the crowded room.

He sat slumped in an armchair by the fire, his favorite seat in the room. He'd been forced to push a first year off the seat, but he didn't care. James wasn't noble like his father – he could live with himself for being less than perfect. It was as he sat there, staring into the whispering flames that he took notice of a young girl, seated in the chair opposite him.

She must have been a first or a second year, she was so small, yet James was disturbed by the troubled expression she wore. Her face was a blank mask, framed by dark, straight hair. He could almost see the fire reflected in her vacant eyes, she was staring into the fire so intently. As he watched, she rested her chin on top of her palm and sighed; aside from that she remained almost completely still.

"Stop staring at me," she said suddenly, catching him off guard.

James blinked and turned his gaze back towards the fire. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." He stole another glance at her, and she finally made eye contact with him. "I mean it, just go away."

"What's your problem?" he retorted defensively.

"Nothing, now go away."

"Nothing? Oh, so you're just rude all the time, then?" James knew he was being obnoxious and immature – but there was something that felt good about trying to spread around his bad mood.

She bit her lip and then sank deeper into her seat. "It's my uncle. He's missing. Now go away."

"Your uncle...?"

"Uncle Arnie." She sighed. "Can you _please_ go away now? I've only asked you a million times, and I'd really, really, _really_ like to be left alone."

_Then you could go up to your dormitory...! _Yet, at seeing the hopeless shadow on the young girl's face, James held back from saying it out loud.

"Oh." He barely knew this girl, and he was horrible at consoling people, yet she didn't seem like she was searching for pity... Lost for words to say, he simply repeated, "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I guess I'll go away now, then."

"Yes, please."

Feeling even more miserable than he'd felt before their short conversation, he shuffled off to the dormitories for a restless night of sleep.

oOo

Equally disturbed at that same moment in time was his father, Harry. He paced tirelessly around his office, pausing to gaze out the window. His office was located just below the Gryffindor common room in the tower, so he usually had a spectacular view – but not tonight. The clouds that had been present all day were still lingering in the sky, blotting out the moonlight and covering the grounds in darkness.

Harry fidgeted with his glasses, blowing on each lens and polishing them with his robes.

All he was doing was wasting time.

He could have been grading papers. He could have been writing lesson plans for his advanced seventh year class. He could have been drifting through the endless corridors of the castle – but he wasn't.

His mind was thinking about why the Ministry would put Malfoy at Hogwarts. He wasn't there to watch them, was he? No, that couldn't have been it – the happenings at Hogwarts weren't really a secret. Then why...?

There was one person he always used to be able to confide in when he got into this kind of mood. She was kind, clever, and understanding – and he had married her, so long ago, in a glorious high of young love, in the happy, happy times that had followed the war.

Should he talk to her? _Shouldn't_ he talk to her?

Without thinking about it, he took two paces and was at his fireplace; a heartbeat later he had tossed the Floo powder into the ever-burning flames and said, "The Burrow."

Harry poked his head through and looked out onto a dark, deserted living room.

"Hello? Anyone? Ginny?"

He nearly jumped as a bundle on the couch shifted and came to life, saying, "Wha...Harry?"

"Ginny!" he exclaimed. "You scared me!"

"Oh, it was my fault," she replied nonchalantly, yawning and stretching her arms out. Harry's eyes were just beginning to adjust to the darkness and he was able to make out her petite silhouette.

"Why are you sleeping down here?"

"I...just...felt like the...couch would be more comfortable tonight," she responded slowly. "You know, I'm closer to the kitchen down here..."

"Right, right." Harry shook his head, not really concerned with her sleeping habits. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything," she breathed.

"I've been worrying over something all day and I really wanted to see what you thought about it."

"Yes?" she responded, a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

"Malfoy is the new High Inquisitor at Hogwarts."

"Oh, Malfoy..." Her voice became flat. "Malfoy?" Ginny blinked. "High Inquisitor? What are you talking about?"

"He's at the school, _evaluating_ all of the professors and making all of my students uncomfortable -"

"Of course. This is _Malfoy_ we're talking about."

"- and I think he's just the beginning of more bad things." When Ginny didn't say anything, Harry continued, "Neville says he's lost his job. I wouldn't doubt it, if Malfoy has as much power as he says he does. But what I'm worried about more than Neville is Luna."

"Luna? What's she got to do with this?"

"I think Malfoy wants her job."

"No! He would ruin Hogwarts!"

"Exactly." Harry's face became grim. "I'm going to visit the Ministry tomorrow, talk to the old folks like Kingsley, see if I can't get Malfoy out of the school."

"Are you...are you sure you want to go...back there?"

He hesitated before answering, "I have to."

"Harry," Ginny started, giving him a concerned look. "I'll go with you."

"No." At seeing the hurt expression on her face, he added, "I mean, you don't have to."

"I would like to," she whispered, pleading silently with her eyes.

"Ginny..." He let out a deep breath. "I can't see you...not now."

"Why not?"

There was solid steel underscoring her words. Harry was taken aback at her quiet intensity, and he gazed into her eyes. She stared right back at him, not giving up an inch in their silent battle of will.

"Okay," he said, relenting.

"Okay? That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Have you changed your mind about wanting to come with me?" he countered.

"No, I -"

"Everything's set, then. I'll drop by tomorrow morning for you."

"Okay."

"Good night, Ginny."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

Hello to the four or five people who are still reading this! I apologize for the long wait between this chapter and the last - and I can't promise that the next chapter will come any sooner, although I can say that the next chapter will definitely come...at some point in the future. I've invested too much time in this story to simply abandon it. 

For anyone who is still confused about the premise (I'll admit, it's kind of a weird premise anyway), basically what you are seeing are all of the characters from the books jumbled around and placed into different roles. So I have Harry Potter being James Potter's dad instead of the other way around; Albus Dumbledore is a student, not the Headmaster, etc. I'm doing my best to keep people in character as best I can, but I think that there are times where I suffer from "All Of Your Characters Talk Like You Do Disease!" (R), so hopefully it's not too noticeable for y'all. There's a reason these chapters take so long - I'm pretty picky with my writing.

So I'm well aware that not much action has happened yet in the story, and I will fix that with the next chapter. Maybe Draco will get mad at the students and say, "Tonight we DINE IN HELL!" or something else cool like, "Harry, I'm your father." Out of curiosity, what do _you_ think should happen, my four or five (or none) faithful readers?

Anyway, I'll close this unusually long author's note with the usual request for reviews. Let me know what you think, even if it's just "lol" or "u suck" or "FREE VIAGRA PILLS AT INAPPROPRIATE WEBSITE!" All reviews short and long are always appreciated.

Thanks!

Ryan

_VacantSkies_


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